


Bad Dream

by dilangley



Category: Jurassic World Trilogy (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Parent Owen, Post-Fallen Kingdom, The night of all the chaos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-29
Updated: 2018-06-29
Packaged: 2019-05-30 17:33:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15101630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dilangley/pseuds/dilangley
Summary: “Wake up!” A small voice, separate from the stinging rain and dinosaur cries, interrupted him. “Please wake up.”Owen opened his eyes, blinked rapidly, tried to realize where he was. The motel room still smelled like mildew and urine, Claire still snored on one of the two creaky beds, and he still sat propped up in a chair next to Maisie’s bed.[a post-FK oneshot]





	Bad Dream

Blue died first, neck snapped in the Indoraptor’s teeth. 

Maisie slipped off the edge of the roof and cracked against the pavement stones below.

The Indoraptor disemboweled Claire and lowered its head to feast.

Owen screamed. His feet froze to the ground. Nothing moved at his command.

“Wake up!” A small voice, separate from the stinging rain and dinosaur cries, interrupted him. “Please wake up.”

Owen opened his eyes, blinked rapidly, tried to realize where he was. The motel room still smelled like mildew and urine, Claire still snored on one of the two creaky beds, and he still sat propped up in a chair next to Maisie’s bed. Maisie gripped his arm in both of her small hands, her eyes glowing in the light from the lamp beside him.

“Maisie.” He licked his dry lips. “Hey. You should be asleep.”

He scrubbed his hands over his sweat-slick face and tried to quiet the pounding blood in his ears. His heart beat furiously, stroking out the adrenaline of losing everyone at once. It hadn’t happened. It had been a dream. His body didn’t seem to know that. He sucked in a deep breath.

“You must have had a bad dream,” Maisie said. “You were talking. Mumbling, kind of.”

Nightmares. Owen had survived hundreds of them after the implosion of Jurassic World. The sheer number of possibilities for deaths splashed across his eyelids every night for months.

Children smashed under the feet of Brachiosaurs.

A father running behind his family swallowed whole by Indominus Rex.

Claire mangled in a Gyrosphere accident.

He had started sneaking out of bed after Claire fell asleep to lay awake on the couch. He would sneak back into bed in the mornings before she woke up. Both of them knew they knew. Her hands shook whenever thunder rattled the windows, and he cried out in his sleep for those he could not save. They didn’t talk about it. It was easier.

Maisie tilted her head, and he realized she wanted an answer, though she had not asked a question.

“I’m sorry I woke you up,” he said. “It wasn’t pretty.”

“You didn’t wake me up.” She jutted her chin out. “I never got to sleep.”

“Okay then.”

Maisie let go of his arm and sat down on the edge of the bed. Claire would have told her not to sit on the blanket, cited all the germs and the statistics about the infrequency of blanket versus sheet washing. He did not consider passing along that information, but his knowledge of it, the comfortable familiarity of knowing what Claire would say, soothed his anxiety. His sponge-heart had been refilling since Claire showed back up a few days ago. Nothing could change that.

“What did you dream about?” Maisie asked.

“I’m not into the play-by-plays, kid. Dinosaurs and people dying.”

“Should I wake up Claire?”

“Is she having bad dreams?”

“No.”

“Then let her sleep.”

Earlier, when Maisie had either drifted off or put on a convincing show of falling asleep, he had bandaged Claire’s leg more thoroughly and watched her down five Tylenol.

_ “You need a doctor for that leg.” _

_ “Zia looked at it,” Claire said. _

_ “She’s a vet. You’re not an animal.” He dropped his voice to a playful growl. “Usually.” _

_ “Obviously,  you’re not too worried I’m going to die.” But oh, she had smiled. “We can’t go anywhere in the system right now. They would take her into foster care.” _

_ “I wouldn’t let them.” _

_ “I know you wouldn’t.” _

Claire had fallen asleep with him holding her hand, her face smooth and relaxed in spite of the pain. He supposed her heart was more sponge-like than she let on too.

“What are we going to do?” Maisie asked.

He wanted to laugh at the stern set of her mouth, the serious intent in her unusual eyes. This face should have been sticky with popsicle juice and tired from all-night sleepovers with friends.

“I don’t know. I’m building a cabin. When I finish it, I’ll buy some furniture. Probably make the tables,” Owen said. Maisie frowned. “That’s what I want to do. What about you?”

Most kids wouldn’t have known how to answer, but he watched her jut out her chin and consider it. He waited for her through the silence. Animal and human behaviors weren’t so different, really.

“I don’t know either.” The words came slow. “I don’t ever want to go back there.”

He remembered that sensation too. She kept talking, but her chin wobbled and her voice wavered and a sniffle dragged through her nose.

“I’m not even who I thought I was. Iris has been with me every day of my life, and she just… left. Mr. Mills barely had to ask. He’s dead. Grandpa’s dead. I don’t want to go back.” This time, she started to cry again in earnest, and she crawled into his arms without hesitation, just as she had in the first moments she had seen him.

“Okay.” He squeezed her against him. When she pressed harder, so did he. He let the sobs shaking her slim body shake his too. Maybe it made him a chauvinist, but he liked the action of holding her, keeping her safe right there against him. In the worst of moments, he felt the same way about Claire, derived strength from having his hands on her, knowing he could snatch her away from danger, knowing he had the option to protect her or die trying.

“Are you going to stay with me?” Maisie pressed the question out of her chattering teeth, tilted her head back to search his face.

He nodded. “I’m not going anywhere without you.”

A wobbly smile almost made him smile back, but her eyes stayed serious. “Can we trust Claire? She was with Mr. Mills.”

He swallowed down his instinct to dismiss her question. Though he had never met Eli Mills before tonight, Owen had seen the man in action. Squaring Eli’s cold demand for Maisie’s compliance with the knowledge that this man had been her mentor and teacher made his gut ache; he could hardly imagine what it meant for this young girl.

But trusting Claire… that was breathing. She would never betray anyone who relied on her. Of all the weights and worries on Maisie’s back, trusting Claire need not be one of them.

“There’s no one I trust more than Claire. Not even you, kid.” He smoothed his hand over her hair.

“Good.” She laid her head down on his chest, and they shared the silence. Claire unleashed a particularly loud snore, followed by a grunt of pain. If his eyelids hadn’t been so heavy, Maisie suddenly so still, breathing so softly, Owen would have checked on Claire. As it was, he listened for her breathing to remain sleep-steady. It did.

“Are you going to have more bad dreams?” Maisie murmured drowsily.

“Maybe.”

He liked the spunk of a kid who didn’t say anything silly after that, didn’t offer to make it better. She just snuggled in closer.

“G’night, Owen. Thank you for saving me.”

“Any time.”

They fell asleep in the chair and did not wake up until morning sunlight peeked through the curtains. The little hand tucked in his must have led him on to sweeter dreams.

**Author's Note:**

> I loved the idea of Owen, not Claire or Maisie, being the one to have bad dreams, and I love the idea of him not being embarrassed about it at all.
> 
> I have no beta. I'm all alone in the world of writing. Forgive me my sins.


End file.
